


Lollipop

by DevilishDaddy



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Car Sex, Gay Sex, Incest, Lollipops, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishDaddy/pseuds/DevilishDaddy
Summary: Where in Miami Rick bets his Morty that he can't go three hours without sucking on one of his lollipops.





	Lollipop

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! 
> 
> Thank you so much for checking out my fiction. This is my first fiction where I have written a Miami Rick and Miami Morty. I'm glad I got a request for this pair, because I've wanted to write them for a while now. 
> 
> I think my boys are just a little different then some of the other fans' interpretations, but I hope you'll love them all the same. Have fun!

Driving down the Old Chrome Highway in their Mercedes Roadster, Miami Rick and his Morty were looking forward to a much needed vacation on the white sands of Hyam. Being one of the most powerful kingpins in the city, with his name and influence spread out over the entire South Sector of the Citadel  _ and  _ the majority of their home galaxy, was hard work. Being the grandson of such a notorious man like Rick while balancing a high-dollar dancing career was no easy task either. Still, Rick rarely relaxed or took time off from being the king, so when he told Morty to pack up, the boy had been skeptical. Rick assured him it was a real, non-laundering vācā, so Morty took his grandfather's word for it. At the very least,  _ he  _ was going to enjoy the vacation that week. Fuck Rick if he was stupid enough to bring work along. 

          Of course they could have just teleported there, but that wasn’t the Miami style. One couldn’t feel the wind rushing through their hair or feel the kiss of the setting sun on the back of their arms if they didn’t drive. Driving was slower, but sometimes slower was better. Not a lot could happen in the instant transportation game, but a lot could happen in the minutes, hours, or even days it might take to drive somewhere. Especially when the romance of the road lost out to boredom. 

          Rick glanced over at his grandson from behind his sunglasses, out of the corner of his eyes. The pretty beach bunny was leaning on his hand, arm propped up on the car door and his long, kinky blond hair whipping around in the wind. The boy was staring out down the long empty road ahead in that way that said he might fall asleep if things didn’t pick up. Between his shifting gaze that always came back to the road, Miami Rick felt a similar twinge behind his eyes that warned him to do something fun. But what?

          The toothpick Rick always kept close by, usually just hanging from the edge of his lips, was his usual detractor. He could get lost in thought easily while his tongue flicked the pointy edge of the pick, lapped at the cheap wood, or passed the stick from the left side to the right side of his mouth before catching it between his fine set of chompers. Rather than one pick, it was really a whole slew of bodies that he kept in a convenient container in the breast pocket of his coat. Whenever the ends would become too splintered or he’d bite down too hard and split the wood all the way up, he could just spit out the corpse and pull out a fresh stick to fondle. It was just a thing he’d done as long as he could remember. “It helps me concentrate,” he sometimes told people. “And it makes me look like a badass, don’t it? Really adds that extra bit of thug flair. Hahaha!”

          As Rick considered what to do, Miami Morty was dealing with his own oral fixation. He had taken up smoking for just one day when he was a kid. If he were being honest, the idea came to him because, mostly, he needed to rebel and he wanted to look like a sexy, cool guy–like his idol. But cigarettes smelled like shit. They tasted like shit. They made his lungs and teeth hurt. Still, there was something just so fucking satisfying about having something heavier than air weighing on his tongue. Something just so damn good feeling about playing with things with his tongue for no damn reason. Morty eventually settled on what became his first true love. 

          Lollipops. Suckers. Sugar balls with a stick up their ass. 

          Whatever the hell anyone called them, they were his private obsession that everyone knew about. He always had extra pops in his purse or pockets. He liked keeping no less than five on him any time he went out, and he rarely ran out of suckers to suck on because he didn’t buy the cheap ones. No, Morty made damn sure to buy the kind of suckers you could molest for hours before they whittled away to nothing. Still, all good things came to an end, and just then his current pop’s final residue had been licked away. The stick was clean and it was time to pick a new flavor. 

          Rick watched as Morty performed a ritual he could almost set his watch by. Morty tossed his useless white stick out the window and unbuckled his seatbelt. He turned and leaned into the back seat so that his ass was just inches from Rick’s face as he hunted for his bag, then through it for his treasures. Rick felt a sudden familiar spark of inspiration then, knowing just how he wanted to pass the next hour or so. 

          “Hey, Morty,” he started. He had to clear his throat since he hadn’t spoken in a while. “What flavors you got today?”

          Morty plopped back into his seat holding an array of different colored pops, then he looked at his grandfather with a smirk and a suspiciously raised eyebrow. “You want a sucker, Rick?” His tone was cocky and mocking. “Since when?”

          “Don’t be an ass, you little shit,” Rick said. There was a grin parting his lips now. The shit-talking was a good start to the afternoon’s events. “Just tell me.”

          “But I thought suckers were for little fuck boys.” Morty taunted Rick with one of his favorite insults. “Oh, what? Did you run out of toothpicks or something, Rick?” Feeling playfully cheeky, Morty held his suckers out towards Rick and waved them around. “Or maybe you’re just tired of chewing on fucking clumped up saw dust and you realized how bad you wanted to down something that actually–something fucking tasty for once. Huh?”

          Rick loved how easy this was. Morty made it easy. 

          Rick snatched away the suckers with his right hand so fast that Morty didn’t have a moment to react. “Hey!” the boy screamed. He pushed his hair out of his face and tried reaching for the candy, but Rick easily held them away from Morty. 

          “Sit the fuck down, Morty!” Rick warned, still overly amused. “You trying to make me crash this fucking car?”

          “Damn it, Rick,” Morty spat. He sat back down in his seat, but stayed facing Rick. “What the hell, man? Just pick one and give me back my shit.”

          “Too much junk like this is bad for you, you know.” Rick waggled the suckers before passing them to his other hand and tucking them away in the pocket of his car door. 

          “What-!? Oh, come on, Rick!” Now Morty was actually frustrated. His tongue lapped at the back of his teeth, feeling for a round sugary treat that he knew was missing. He knew it wasn’t there, but the action was as habitual as it was subconscious. “Give ‘em back.”

          “Now, now, Morty,” Rick said in a taunting tone. He kept his left hand on the wheel and raised his right, pointing his index finger towards the sky. “Hear me out. I-heheh-I think we should play a game.”

          Morty leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He  _ did  _ like games, and if Rick was in a mood then the fastest way to the suckers was by playing along. “Ugh!” The boy gave a huffing noise of protest, but then said, “Fine, Rick. What do ya want?”

          “It’s a bet, kiddo.” Rick held up three fingers. “There are three hours until we hit the resort.” Two fell and the index remained again. “I bet you one Giant-O-Bag-O-Lollies that you can’t last that long without sucking on one of those damn things.”

          Morty’s eyes had grown large at the mention of the super expensive Galaxy Suckers for Sugar Addicted Suckers mega deal bag. They were his favorite. Just one of those juicy morsels could last an entire week, and the bag Rick was offering could last at least a year. Longer if his tongue wasn’t too greedy. 

          “What’s the deal?” Morty asked, playing it cool. “Why the hell do you care so much if I’m eating candy all of a sudden?”

          “I don’t,” Rick clarified. “I just know you can’t fucking do it and I want to see you fail.” 

          Rick’s laughter stoked Morty’s anger. The younger male bit his tongue to keep from saying something that might get him smacked upside the head and change Rick’s “charitable” mood into a darker one. 

          “You know what, Rick.” Morty smiled and ran his fingers through his windblown hair to get it back in place. “You’re on, asshole.” He sat back in his seat and propped his bare feet up on the dashboard. “This is going to be the easiest hull I’ve ever pulled out of you.” 

          That statement made Rick smirk and chuckle in a short, lower-toned way. “Okay, Morty. No lollis until we get to the resort.”

          “Sure, Rick. Whatever. Just turn on the radio, huh? You might be getting your kicks, but I’m bored.”

          Rick obliged and the two of them rode on for several miles in silence, the sound of latin rock and bilingual rap filling the silence between them.

 

          It had been only half an hour since Miami Rick made his bet with Morty, and already the boy was starting to show signs of withdrawal. His foot, still up on the dashboard–now more out of a defiant show of how calm he was than anything–twitched back and forth too fast and sporadic to be in time with any of the songs’ tempos. He kept licking his lips too, every few seconds, as if the heat had suddenly dried them out too much. However, Rick noticed they looked as nourished and plump as ever, just a little shiny from all the spit polishing. Then there was the impatient sighing and the little sudden shifts in position. Rick had known that Morty wouldn’t be able to handle the long drive remaining without having something juicy in his mouth, but he hadn’t actually thought he’d break so easily. 

          “You okay, Morty?” Rick asked after turning down the radio. 

          “I’m  _ fine _ ,” Morty spat back, not caring to monitor his tone completely. 

          “Oh really?” Rick laughed. “Because by the sound of what a little bitch you’re-” The “you’re” was broken up by an impressive belch, but he kept through the word until the end. “I’d say that you’re losing it.”

          “I’m not losing  _ anything _ , Rick. Stop being a dick and-just get us to the stupid hotel.” 

          Morty huffed and pulled his crossed arms in tight to his chest. He felt stupid. It was just a little habit. It wasn’t a drug addiction or anything. It was a sucker. That was all. He didn’t  _ have  _ to have one. That was a stupid idea, and yet–no matter how many times he told himself that–he  _ did _ need one. He needed one so badly he thought he maybe didn’t need a big bag of fancy pops. After all, it wasn’t like Rick didn’t buy them for him when he wanted them anyway. It wasn’t a whole bag of custom flavors, but did he really need that? Well, no, but he did want it. More importantly, he had no intention of letting Rick win. 

          Most of the time, Morty hated showing any sign of weakness towards Rick that he didn’t have to. He was a good boy for his sugar grandpa, sure. He’d work his clubs and he’d show his best clients a good time, but there was a line there that Rick knew not to cross. Morty did those things for pleasure and to contribute to the business. He was proud of his skills, so it was no fuss for him to use them to better the family business. However, this was a cruel, stupid game. This was Rick trying to prove what a big, bad motherfucker he was while making Morty appear pathetic and needy. If Morty let him win-

          He wasn’t going to let him win!

          “You sure you don’t want one, Morty~?” Rick half-sang Morty’s name in that playful way he sometimes did, when he was addressing Morty not as his equal but as his cute little grandson. Sometimes it was an endearing sound, but right now it was just an offensive noise. 

          “Fuck you, Rick.”

          “Are you sure you don’t want one, Morty~?” There it was again, along with the sound of crinkling plastic. Morty glanced over and saw Rick now held one of the wrapped suckers in hand. He was waving it slowly back and forth between fingers pinched around the stick. “You su–ure~?” 

          Morty’s face flared red. “Knock it off!” He had reprimanded Rick before thinking about it. He watched an even wider, foxish grin spread his grandpa’s lips. Those perfect, pretty teeth. Morty wanted to punch a hole through them. Still, his mouth was starting to water just looking at the lollipop in Rick’s hold. 

          The boy pulled his feet down and sat himself up straighter. He forced his gaze out the window and pretended with all his might that he was just annoyed at Rick and not honestly considering going after the pop. He ignored the old man’s next couple of taunts. Then he felt a small touch of relief as he heard the sucker’s hard thunk as it joined its brothers in the door’s storage compartment. At least it was out of grabbing range. That eased some tension.

 

          Another half hour passed. The music had been placed at a reasonable volume and Rick had only teased Morty a couple of times since. Morty had kept his attention out the window. Focusing on passing trees and trying to count the sparse buildings in the distance had helped a little, but Morty was still on edge. 

          His tongue kept circling around its moist cavern, hunting for any sign of its usual relief. At one point, his teeth had started to ache and his jaw felt stiff. He realized that he had been clenching his jaw tight and had been lightly grinding his teeth. 

          This, Morty believed, was what hell would be like for him. 

_           Click. Click. Rattle. Clack. Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! _

_           What the hell…? _ Morty thought. He glanced over his shoulder, too curious not to, and gasped inwardly as he saw what Rick had done. 

          “R-Rick?” Morty’s voice came out so low that it was lost under the sound of the engine, the wind, and the music. The boy’s mouth had begun salivating again, so much so that he had to swallow before he could speak. “What are you doing?” he asked, a little louder this time.

          Rick’s belt was parted and his fly was undone. Though his left hand still rested on the steering wheel, his right had slid under the material and was now groping at what lie beneath. 

          “Don’t mind me, Morty,” Rick said calmly. “Just gonna work one out.” He said it like it was the most casual thing in the world. Then he moaned, a low, deep, vibrating sound that made Morty’s thighs clench together. “Breeze feels nice.”

          Morty remembered then how goddamn sexy his grandfather was. He was in his best element, Morty thought, driving his Mercedes under the rose to orange-gold southern sky. The old man looked a little younger, relaxed. He was a powerful crime lord and wicked businessman, both things Morty respected about him, but  _ this _ had been the Rick that Morty had always loved. 

          Rick was a confident bastard. He looked good and he knew it. He could feel Morty’s eyes on him, not just his shifting bulge, and he dared to think why. He rolled his toothpick to the left side of his mouth and bit down enough to tense his jaw. He caught the effect it had on the boy out of the corner of his peripherals. Then Rick sat back, left arm stretched straight out to clasp the steering wheel, and he brandished his cock into the open air.

          Morty eyed the man in his best driving pose, then his package. Rick was rubbing one out, but he was careful to give his grandson a show. Morty knew how Rick liked to pull it, and he only used such languid strokes when he was showing off for someone else. 

          “It won’t count,” Rick said calmly. He couldn’t keep the amusement off of his lips, but his voice was regulated. 

          “W-what?” Morty looked back up to Rick’s face. 

          “If you need something to suck,” Rick continued. “This lollipop won’t cost you your win.”

_           So this had been his plan all along,  _ Morty thought. He laughed, almost coldly, and tried to play it cooler than he felt. “Oh, really? Well it’d be too bad for you if I didn’t care, wouldn’t it?” He was lying and he knew Rick would be able to tell. He couldn’t stop staring at the flushed, smooth crown, or thinking about how great it would feel to have it in his mouth, something for his tongue to circle around and play with. 

          “I don’t care either way,” Rick admitted. He was lying too, but he had a much more convincing poker face. 

          Morty mulled over his options. He didn’t want to lose, but he was going to go crazy if he didn’t put  _ something _ in his mouth soon. Also, he wanted to keep Rick happy, and it wasn’t such a bad trade off was it? 

          Rick felt Morty shift into position. He finally looked down once he knew Morty’s knees were tucked under him in the passenger’s seat and his attention was on Rick’s lap. The old man smiled as he admired his grandson’s sexy curves. He removed his own hand from his dick so that Morty could replace it with his. Rick then grazed the tips of his fingers down the fur of Morty’s short, leopard-spotted fur coat. He pushed the coat up to show off more of the sun-kissed flesh of Morty’s back, then teased the warm skin and himself at the same time. 

          “It doesn’t count?” Morty asked, wide eyes looking up from behind his pink sunglass lenses. 

          “Nope. Go crazy, kid.” 

          Almost as soon as Rick had confirmed it, Morty had opened his mouth and popped the whole of Rick’s lower head into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut as, finally, he felt some of the anxiety ebb. He hummed sensually, more from elation than from trying to do anything for his partner, and let his tongue work circles around the glands. He massaged the swollen flesh inside his mouth, dipping his tongue into the crease of the crown to draw out the salty flavor of Rick’s pleasure. 

          The older man clawed gently at his grandson’s lower back and Morty pushed forward and curled up so that his head was directly over Rick’s core and his ass was obtainable. Rick squished Morty’s plump asscheeks with his right hand. He worked the globes up, letting the voluptuous meat bulge between his firmly gripping fingers. They were made easily available by Morty’s sexy, little, pink bikini bottoms. 

          “Feels good, Rick,” Morty moaned after a noisy  _ POP _ . He knew Rick liked to hear it, how his partners loved what he would do to them, but the boy meant it as much as he liked playing on Rick’s kinks. 

          Morty opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue, and slid himself down Rick’s cock. He felt the rod poke the back of his throat almost at once, but the urge to gag was easily bypassed after years of practice. Morty closed his eyes and starting bobbing his head. Up and down. Up and down. His tongue stroked along Rick’s shaft on the updraw. It pressed with expert force and rolled over the ridges of the man’s dick perfectly. The mouth itself preformed a bit of well-trained magic of its own, sucking in to form a vacuum even while the tongue hung out, drawing the dick to Morty’s throat and then holding on tight as his head lifted back up. The pressure only eased when Morty lowered his head back down, to give a thrilling sensation of release. Then it was back to tension and intense friction on the way up again.

          Rick groaned and kept his eyes on the road now. He needed to stay focused on driving, which was an erotically difficult task. “Good boy,” he growled. He gave Morty’s ass a good tug, pulling his cheeks apart. Then he smashed them back together. He knew how it felt and he wanted to reward the boy for all his effort so far. “Good boy, Morty. Keep it up and I might make it two bags.”

          Rick was full of shit, but Morty didn’t care. He wanted to please him and he wanted to feel what came next.

          Cutting off his airways completely, Morty opted to push down more rather than pull up on his last swallow. He carefully pushed Rick’s mass deeper inside of him. There was intense pressure as the head stretched his esophagus. Then he felt his defenses break and the first inch or so of Rick’s cock popped into place inside his throat. His tongue bounced, still stretched out flat under the protruding force. He felt Rick’s sounds of pleasure as much as he heard them. 

          Pushing further, Morty eased his head lower, slightly twisting this way or that to help work the morsel down his throat. Finally, his nose pressed into the fabric of Rick’s unzipped pants. He’d taken the beast all the way to the hilt. Now was the really fun part. 

          “Shit!” Rick barked. He looked down to watch the root-showing blonde’s head pulse as the boy worked. “Ohhhh~!” Rick almost lost control of the wheel from getting distracted and the car drifted to the side a little, but he easily got it right again. “I forget how fucking good you are at that, Morty.” Rick laughed then. “You really love your lollipops, huh, kid?”

          Morty giggled on the lift, a sound which sent shockwaves through Rick’s cock and into his brain. Then Morty dropped back down and kept working at a harsh, needy pace. 

          Morty  _ was _ good at what he did. He was an expert. He could get a stud off in under a minute if he wanted or needed to, but he could also make it last. He had just under two hours until the prize was his, so the boy had every intention of drawing this thing out.

          Anytime Rick started getting close, Morty would stop and change tactics. He’d go from feverishly deep throating him to simply licking the underside of his prick. When that became enough to make Rick’s dick twitch in preperation, Morty started nipping and hickying the swollen rod. When that became too good and repetitious, he pulled a frustrated groan from his grandfather by softly running kisses and timid licks along the less damaged flesh. Whenever Rick became too excited, Morty would switch to jerking Rick off, careful to leave his thumb up top to block off any potential flow. 

          After a point, Rick couldn’t think about anything else except getting off. He tried pulling the car over but as soon as his speed fell, Morty pulled off. “You drive or I stop.” 

          “Damn it, kid! I’m gonna bust a nut!” 

          “Not in my mouth,” Morty warned. “Not unless you’re driving us to the hotel.”

          Rick had kept going. Eventually, he had to cheat a little and put on his specially-modded autopilot. He hated using it unless he had to, like for getaways without a driver or something, but this was an emergency situation. 

          Morty let Rick grab his hair and push his head down. He let the older man fuck his mouth hard and fast, or however he wanted to, but every time Rick was starting to shake and moan in that telling way, Morty stopped Rick from blowing. He’d squeeze his balls or bite down just a little too hard or he’d stop moving all together or he’d plug the hole up tight enough to keep Rick from being able to erupt. 

          Rick nearly started to cry when he saw the resort’s signs between the highrising palm trees. “We-we’re almost there, Morty. Just a few more minutes. Just-oh! Not long now.”

          Morty popped off of Rick’s dick and sat up. “Oh! Great!” He was grinning. His lips were thick and dark red from all of the oral, wet with slick. His cheeks were flushed, adding some cherry to the orangish-tan. 

          Rick almost yelled, honestly worried Morty planned to leave him like that. Then he shivered with anticipation as he watched–as he felt–Morty crawl over into his lap. The boy’s taught stomach tensed, visible under his loose blue crop-top, as he straddled Rick’s hips. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he reached back and moved his pink bottoms aside. He stole some lube from Rick’s soaked dick and slipped his fingers up his own ass. He worked himself open for just a few seconds before he placed his gasping entrance up to the tip of Rick’s throbbing cock. 

          “Kiss me while you fuck me,” Morty ordered. 

          Rick spat out his tooth pick, popped his seat back a couple of notches to give them a little more room to work with, and then wrapped both of his hands around Morty’s cheeks. He spread them apart and helped lower the boy down, eager to feel those insides he knew would be tight with equal parts arousal as he felt. 

          He let Morty wrap his arms around his neck and met his parted lips with his own. Their tongues ran circles around each other and fought in a sexy game of war. Morty slid his hips down and gasped around their make-out as Rick’s huge mass spread him open and penetrated him deep. 

          “More, Rick,” Morty moaned. He kept locking lip and tongue even as he begged, “Fuck me, Rick! Fuck me hard!”

          Rick used his large hands and strong grip to work Morty like a million-dollar sex doll. He thrusted his hips as he bounced Morty’s smaller body roughly along the pole buried inside of him. 

          Both men panted loudly and Morty began to whine as they fucked fiercely in the driver’s seat. The sounds of wet skin slapping and sloppy, heated kissing washed away everything else. Blood pulsed in both of their ears and their sensitive dicks. Morty’s wept inside its confines, still trapped in the silky pink fabric of his bikini bottoms. Rick felt his sack tense angrily, desperate to break the pattern of teasing that Morty had set it up to expect.  

          A thick, powerful shot of creamy translucent-white fluid shot into Morty’s quaking body and the boy let out a long, ear-shattering scream. “Rick!” he cried, shaking all over. His body spasmed and his ass jerked to pull more pleasure from his partner. “Rick! Yes! Rick! Rick! I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming, Rick!”

          Rick pulled Morty’s would-be panties aside and gripped the boy’s prick with one hand while the other helped keep the boy bouncing. Rick had cum but he was going to do it at least two more times before he’d stop. He pumped Morty’s cock fast and aimed its moist eye up towards his own face. “Do it!” Rick ordered. “Do it, you little shit! Cum for me! Cum all fucking over me, Morty!”

          Morty’s eyes tightened close and his entire body froze in a hyper tense way as every muscle clenched. His ass devoured and suffocated Rick’s cock as his own prick shot long-distanced ribbons of white that struck Rick in the face. His jizz made a trail from his stomach to his sunglasses as Morty fired one small load after another. He turned a dark cherry all over from holding his breath as he came, a bad habit of his but something that occured too naturally to fight. 

          “R–ri–ick….” Morty growled Rick’s name through nashed teeth as the last of what he thought he had to offer oozed out from his slit. 

          “Fuck,” Rick responded. “Not yet, Morty.” He didn’t give any warning other than that, but he needed to blow again. “You’re not done yet.”

          “Rick!” Morty’s voice cracked on a high note as he screamed. Rick had started thrusting and bouncing him again. This time it seemed it was all about speed. Their hips gyrated and Morty started clawing at the pink fabric of Rick’s coat. His fingers balled into fists with the fabric trapped in his hold. The boy shook his head, his stylish hair, painstakingly hair-sprayed into shape, shook loose in places and lost shape from the sweat and heat radiating from the host. 

          “Morty!” Rick powerdrove deep inside of Morty one last time as his seed exploded from within his veiny shaft. It poured out into Morty’s body with a force that made the boy’s eyes roll. 

          Morty’s body shivered in Rick’s hold and then he gasped loudly and tried to reach down between his legs to hold off what he felt coming. Hot clear fluid tore from his prick and splashed Rick’s chest. He lost consideration and moaned with his swollen tongue visible in his wide open mouth as he mentally said “fuck it” and let it all go. 

          Rick bounced Morty a few more times as they both finished up their little escapades. Then Rick pulled Morty off his soon to start softening cock and held the boy in his lap. They kissed a few more times, slower this time, and then Morty laid his head on Rick’s shoulder so that they could each catch their breath. 

          A moment passed and their bodies finally eased, spent and content. Then Morty giggled a little and pointed out something he’d just noticed. “Hey, Rick? When did the car stop?”

          “Dunno, Morty.”

          “Did we just finish up in front of the hotel?”

          Rick laughed. “Yeah.”

          “I think the valet liked it,” Morty added, glancing over at a startled young man who looked too pretty to be wasting his time parking rich guys’ cars. Morty winked at him which made the valet look like he might have just wet himself.

          “Yeah. Probably.”

          They both laughed hard then. Morty sat up and looked at Rick with a loving smile. “Hey, Rick?” 

          Rick grinned back at Morty. “Yeah?”

          Morty pulled a lollipop out in front of him and undid the wrapper. He popped it into his mouth triumphantly. “I win.”

          That cracked Rick up again. “I guess you do. Good job, you little shit.”

          The two stood up, tucked themselves in, and got out of the car. Rick tossed his keys at the young man with a wet stain hidden on the dark fabric of his black pants. 

          “Have our bags brought up to our room, and clean the upholstery while you’re at it.” Rick then tossed a small wad of cash at the speechless attendant. As the two Miami men walked into the lobby, Rick pulled out a fresh toothpick. No one would say shit to him about what they looked or smelled like. He knew the owner of the resort and he knew he’d be given run of the place if he wanted. That was the beauty of power. It didn’t matter if you reeked of piss and sex, or if you wore leopard print or pink coats. People respected money and a title. 

          “Mr. Sanchez!” A cute bellboy rushed over and bowed his head. “We’ve been expecting you. Please, right this way, Sir. I’ll show you to your suite.”

          Rick and Morty followed the redhead to the elevator, looking as tough as ever. 

          “Hey, Rick?” 

          “Yeah, Morty?”

          “Wanna fuck up the room as soon as we get in?”

          Rick looked down at Morty who was still eyeing the bellboy. Rick grinned wolfishly. “Why the hell not? We payed for it.”

          “Great,” Morty said, creeping up on the hired help from behind. “And afterwards, you’re gonna order my lollipops.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Remember to bookmark, comment, and heart it if you like it and would like me to do more stories like this one.
> 
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> 
> Have a great day! Hope to see you again soon.


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